


Let Me Take Care Of You

by sliceofbri



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, F/M, Feeding, Fluff, Food Kink, Food as Foreplay, Hand Feeding, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Stuffing, Trust Issues, Vaginal Sex, Vulnerability, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sliceofbri/pseuds/sliceofbri
Summary: You were a Hall Girl. A glorified errand monkey, you deliver datapads and fetch sandwiches for the most important men in the First Order. You've been reassigned to General Hux's sector, and you quickly find out that he's not as easily impressed as most of the men aboard the Finalizer. One day, you see something you're not meant to, and it ignites something entirely new within you.After all, you know what they say, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.





	1. One

Your expertly manicured fingernails pinched another perfectly ripe berry, adding more juice to your already stained fingers. You hovered a moment over the waiting mouth of your lover, before dropping the fruit inside, letting your fingers caress their chin as you retreated. Reaching again to the bowl, you were unphased to find the berries had been replaced with miniature dachshunds, wiggling and squirming and begging to be petted. You scooped up a handful of the tiny creatures, nuzzling them against your face, their little puppy kisses filling your heart with so much joy and--

Brzzzt. Brzzzt. Brzzzt. Groaning, you swiped blindly for your alarm clock, slamming the switch to silence the incessant buzzing. You stumbled to your refresher, splashing cool water on your face in an attempt to banish all thoughts of returning to bed and pretending to be sick. All you wanted was to wake up one day excited to get out of bed, was that so much to ask?

Peeling off your sleeping clothes as you walked, you groped your arms into the hatch near your door, finding a clean uniform waiting, expertly folded and still a bit warm. Shucking your panties, you pulled a new pair from your dresser, bright yellow today. As they were the only part of your daily clothes you were allowed to choose for yourself, many aboard the Finalizer eschewed the regulation grey undies and spent their paychecks on neon panties, silky briefs, and lacy thongs. 

You were in no position to complain about your uniform. Back when you were an attendant in Mess Hall C, you got the same grey, shapeless tunic and trousers as most of the non-combat staff. Now, though, you shimmied into a collared black dress, the First Order insignia embroidered on the sleeve, belted at the waist. There were only a dozen women onboard who wore this dress, and it marked you out immediately as special, as important. You loved it. 

The only thing you missed about your old uniform were the heavy, clunky, dependable boots. The shiny heels provided to you now were low enough to be easily manageable, but they pinched your toes and sometimes gave you blisters if you walked too much. Still, it was a small price to pay, and so you slid them on over your sheer black tights without complaint. 

Glancing at the clock, you were just a bit behind. You snatched your datapad from its charging slate, clicking it into the holster on your belt. Finally, you grabbed a hair tie and slid it onto your wrist, figuring you’d be better off doing your hair in an elevator than turning up late. Again. 

Stepping out the door, you saw Kiara exiting her room, directly across from yours. “Good morning!”

“Ooh, you’re gonna get a smack for showing up looking like that.”

“I’ve got it under control.” You waved your hair tie at her as you punched in the code to activate your lock. 

“Did you hear the news?” Kiara looked gleeful as she smacked the elevator button at the end of the hall. 

“No, I haven’t even looked at my ‘pad since I got in last night. Didn’t even know there was a meeting until two minutes ago.” You confessed. Commander Rodgers had made multiple inappropriate advances on you, and you took a scalding shower and went to bed as soon as you were off-duty. 

“Qui-Qui is gone.” Your jaw dropped. “Yeah, rumor has it she was having an affair with Lieutenant Grypp, which to be fair would probably be my choice of all the men in that sector, and she lied to the medics about her implant, saying it was hurting her, and could they like, take it out, and they did, so she wound up pregnant, like on purpose, to try and get him to leave his wife who lives on like Pothor or something? Whatever, doesn’t matter, but yeah, she’s gone.”

“Well. That’s…” You weren’t sure quite how to respond.

“Probably the stupidest thing anyone’s ever done? Yeah. I mean like, way to be a stereotype.” You and Kiara were Hall Girls. You had an official title, something like Hospitality and Nutritional Attendant, but everyone just called you Hall Girls. It was a remarkably bland name for a position so coveted. Each of you were assigned a sector of the fourteenth floor, where all the highest-ranking officers of the First Order had their suites. You were available all day, to run small errands, or schedule simple appointments, but most of your tasks were food related. Few of these men found time to stop by any of the Mess Halls, so you were constantly running to the kitchens, filling their fridges with sandwiches and tucking protein bars in their pockets and ensuring there was a plate of hot food on their table to greet them at the end of every long day. 

It sounded grueling, but it was the most sought after position in Hospitality. Why? For most, it was about the freedom, and the power. You were granted access to almost anywhere on the ship, you could ask anyone for almost anything and they would give it to you, purely because the dress you wore. You didn’t question a Hall Girl. Several of your coworkers abused this, stocking their kitchens with fine wines and chocolates, making sure they always had plenty of painkillers, caffeine pills, and hangover cures from Sick Bay, and generally helping themselves to anything they wanted. Select others enjoyed being close to men in charge, to rifle quietly through their things and maybe copy the occasional document over to their own datapads to peruse later on. To whisper suggestions in their ears and dream of one day being the person who made decisions instead of making caf. But you? You were an exception.

The freedom was nice, you enjoyed sneaking up to the top floor to stargaze while drinking stolen booze as much as the other Hall Girls. But mostly, you enjoyed caring for these men. They were overworked and underfed, and you could only help with one. You loved when they asked you for strange, unfindable things, forcing you to spend an entire afternoon tracking down the only copy of that book onboard or begging the cooks to try and figure out how Hosnian Purii Soup was made. To order new boots or a deep-clean on their ‘fresher before they even had to think about asking. To greet them at the end of the day with a tray of freshly baked cookies and allow them to forget about the war, to forget their losses and their heartache and their anger, and enjoy the simple human pleasure of food. 

“What’s Baz gonna do about it?” You asked as the elevator opened. 

“Probably just give each girl an extra room until we can bring someone else on. I mean, that sector is no joke.” Qui-Qui had been in Sector 4, which housed the most important men on the Finalizer. Three Captains, two Colonels, two Lieutenant Captains, and General Hux. Kylo Ren used to live in the same sector, but there had been too many, ahem, altercations between himself and General Hux.

“I hope she picks someone good. If I hear one more complaint about Nette, I’m going to lose my mind.” You started gathering your hair up, but Kiara stopped you, pressing your shoulder to indicate she would braid it for you. “Thanks, Kee.”

“Don’t mention it.” You were still on your knees, her fingers twined in your hair when the elevator stopped on the twelfth floor, sliding open to reveal the fatigued, wrinkled form of General Hux. “General.” Kiara nodded her head, and you tried to do the same. 

“L/N, Burkiss, I really don’t have to tell you that this is hardly the place for such activities.”

“The fault is mine, sir.” You immediately offered. “I was running late this morning. Burkiss was only being a kind and helpful friend, trying to ensure I would not arrive to my assignment out of uniform.” As you spoke, Kiara would the tail of the braid up and into a tight bun, securing it with the elastic. You stood and gave the General his belated nod. 

“Seeing as the situation has remedied, I will overlook it. Don’t make it a habit.” The doors opened onto the fourteenth floor, and the General rubbed his eyes as he marched tiredly towards Sector 4. You realized he was not an early riser; He had yet to go to sleep. 

“Well, that was a fun way to start the morning.” You sighed as you and Kiara swung an immediate left out of the elevator, to the tiny office where the Hall Girls were meeting.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Kiara stole a glance down the hall, as if General Hux was waiting to pounce on her. 

“Me, too.” It was rumored that he had once had a Hall Girl fired for getting his lunch order wrong, and another for being in his bedroom without permission. 

“Ladies, let’s begin.” Baz clapped her hands together the moment you and Kiara stepped into the office. You supposed her promptness was one of the reasons she was Head Hall Girl, allowed to assign herself the smallest and easiest Sector. “By now most of you will know Qui-Qui is no longer with us. I spent most of the night deliberating, and I am going to reassign Y/N to Sector 4. Kiara, Selne, and myself will redistribute the rooms in Sector 6 amongst ourselves until a suitable candidate is chosen.” 

She said it so fast you didn’t quite register it, though you knew your name had appeared somewhere in the mix. “Sorry, did you say I was taking Sector 4?” You clarified.

“Yes. It was the obvious choice, your satisfaction scores are the highest in this room by nearly three whole points.” The compliment rolled off you as the reality began to sink in. The most important men onboard were now your responsibility. “Alright ladies, we’ve got caf to brew. Kiara, Selne, Y/N, stay behind please.”

“Baz, are you sure I’m ready for such a--”

“I’ve already reprogrammed your keycard for your new Sector, you can find all of Qui-Qui’s notes in your inbox, and if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask.” Baz smiled at you dismissively, and you could do nothing but retreat from the room, pulling your datapad up to view the notes that would be your only guide through this morning. 

As you walked to the kitchen, you typed up a quick message to the inhabitants of your new sector. “Good Morning Gentlemen. I apologize for bothering you so early, but I felt it important you know Qui-Qui has been relieved of duty, and I have been reassigned to your sector. As such, I would greatly appreciate any help you can grant me these first few days before I learn your habits and schedules. Thank you!”

This was going to be a long day.

***

Finally, around 1400, you got a few minutes to catch your breath. Your morning had been a nonstop rush of delivering caf, hoping the men would send you breakfast orders, dashing madly for the kitchens when they did, answering the other Hall Girls questions about your old sector, and quietly cursing Qui-Qui for taking such lousy notes. You had just finished sending out a few droids with sandwich platters to find several of the men who had been kind enough to let you know they were getting a bit hungry. 

Some of your new men you hadn’t even heard from yet. Lieutenant Mitaka, who you’d heard was sweet as could be, Colonel Newark, who was rather new to the ship, and General Hux. It was entirely possible they had simply gotten their meals from the Mess Hall, and you didn’t want to be overbearing on your first day, so you let it alone. 

Taking advantage of the quiet, you figured it was a good time to acquaint yourself with the suites of your new sector, see if they needed cleaning. You refused to admit you were simply curious and aching for any information that would make you feel more in control of your new situation. 

Two suites in, and it was clear Qui-Qui was not as discerning as you were. Showers were full of scum, pantries were barren...It was a wonder she hadn’t gotten fired yet. As you moved to the next room, you wondered if she had always been so lax, or if she had simply gotten sloppy as her heart was distracted. 

Walking into the next suite, you walked smack into General Hux. “Oh, forgive me sir!”

“Close the door, you’ll let Millicent out. What are you doing in my quarters?” He ushered you into the hallway as he spoke. You didn’t bother asking who Millicent was. 

“I’m the new Hall Girl, sir. I just wanted to...acquaint myself, see if there was anything you needed.”

“Do you make a habit of snooping?” His face was beginning to flush, and you had a feeling you were in for a shout. 

“No, sir. I am not here to rifle through your things or steal military secrets.” You willed your voice not to shake. “I am here to see if your shower needs cleaning, or if I should send your boots to be polished.” 

“Do you assume all of your superior officers are so incompetent they cannot tell you if they require such assistance?” A vein in his temple was throbbing. 

“It is my experience, sir, that you are all very busy men.”

“In other words, yes.”

“In other words,” You knew you were being insubordinate, but you weren’t about to stand here and be insulted, “I am trying to do my job, which is to  _ simplify  _ your life by  _ anticipating _ your needs--”

“Your job is to complete tasks  _ as I assign them to you! _ ” You lowered your eyes as he shouted, surrendering. 

“My apologies, sir. I appreciate your patience as I learn your preferences.” You gave a slight bow before scurrying to the next suite, waiting until the door was shut behind you before bursting into tears. You’d had clients upset with you, you’d been snapped at, yelled at, sufferend endless come-ons and listened to them complain about work for what felt like hours. But you had never been so violently screamed at for having the audacity to do your job. 

“Oh, um, are you alright?” You looked up to see Lieutenant Mitaka, still in sleeping clothes.

“Oh my stars, I am so sorry Lieutenant! I assumed you were out.” You stood up straight, wiping at your eyes. 

“You’re not Qui-Qui.” He stated dumbly, grabbing a kitchen towel to blow his nose on. 

“No, she’s uh, she’s gone.” You explained, still regaining composure. “I’m the new Hall Girl, Y/N. I  _ did  _ send out a message about it. Again, I am  _ so _ sorry to have appeared in such a state.”

“Oh, my comlink is a bit faulty, I don’t think I ever got it. But that explains why I never got my breakfast!” Mitaka gave a small laugh, which dissolved into a cough.

“Oh! I’ll go fetch you something right away. Is there anything else I can get you?” You glanced around his suite, noting it too could use a good cleaning. 

“Why were you crying?” He seemed to ask out of genuine compassion. You were glad the rumors about him had been true. 

“Oh, nothing. Just a...nasty run-in with General Hux.”

He nodded knowingly. “Welcome to my life. Don’t worry, he’s just particular, you’ll get used to him. Though he never seemed to like Qui-Qui…”

“How very reassuring.” You responded, and he laughed. At least you had one friend. “I’ll go get you some soup. And cough medicine.” Grateful to have something to do, you headed towards Sick Bay. As you went, you mused over what had happened with General Hux.

Some of your men had preferred you to stay out of their bedrooms, and you understood that. But never before had you been forbidden from entering their quarters all together. You had been assigned that sector because you were the best. And part of what made you the best was how involved you were. If you couldn’t do that, you feared you couldn’t perform and you’d be removed from Sector 4. Or worse, demoted. 

You would just ignore it. You had an entire sector to care for, not just one man. It would be fine. You would be just fine.

***

The chirping of your comlink jolted you from a light slumber, and you rubbed your eyes as you glanced down at the sender. General Hux. Groping for your datapad, you saw that it was late, 2200. You were technically available at all hours, but you typically retired to your quarters around 1900, and only a few times had anyone ever demanded errands of you once you had. 

Still, you knew you had to do all you could to get back in the Generals good graces, tapping open the message. One word: Dinner. Evidently, the General had not yet eaten and the Mess Halls had long since closed for the day. 

Groaning, you hastily pulled on a uniform, shoving your feet into shoes as you grabbed your passcard. There was but one person in the kitchen, headphones in as he scrubbed a sinkload of soapy dishes. You walked over to the enormous walk-in cooler, hoping there would be something you could reheat. A cold meal would not do. 

Grabbing a pan of pasta, you brought it out onto a table, scooping out a generous portion into a skillet. Food reheated in microwaves always tasted as such. While it began to warm through, you fished a dinner roll out of an enormous bag near the ovens. Figuring overkill wouldn’t hurt, you also cut a slice from a carrot cake, arranging it neatly with a fork. Yawning as you picked up the food laden tray, you reminded yourself you would be back in bed in fifteen minutes, all you had to do was deliver this. You moved faster than a droid, and you wanted to ensure it had arrived before returning to sleep.

Once you arrived at his suite, you hesitated. Normally, you would simply let yourself in and deliver the food. But given his reaction that afternoon, you were terrified to make another error. Reasoning that he was  _ expecting _ the food to arrive, you swiped yourself in, closing the door promptly behind you. 

“In here.” A voice called from the small office to your left, where yellow light was spilling out into the kitchen. General Hux was sitting at his desk, sucking on the end of a cigarette as he read something on a datapad in his lap. Soft jazz was playing quietly from a device on the corner of the desk. A huge, fluffy orange cat was perched on the top of his desk chair, and you realized that must be Millicent. 

“Your food, sir.” You walked in, placing the tray on the desk between datapads and stacks of paper.

“You could have sent a droid, I know it is late.” He didn’t look up from the screen, blowing out a stream of smoke.

“I walk significantly faster than a droid. I’m sure you must be quite hungry, given how late it is.”

“Asuste observation.” He replied dryly. Glancing at the tray for only the briefest of moments, Hux discarded his cigarette into an ashtray, replacing it with a fork, which he immediately used to carve out a sizable bite of carrot cake. 

The cat jumped down from her perch, padding over to you and winding around your legs. Smiling, you bent down to scratch her under the chin. “How sweet.”

“You’re dismissed, Y/N.”

“While I’m here sir, may I ask what time you take breakfast?”

“ _ Dismissed, _ Y/N. When I need you, I will call you.” He was not unkind, simply firm, but something about having such a simple request denied made you nearly burst into tears again.

“Yes, sir. Sleep well.” You gave Millicent a final pat before standing and making your way back to your own quarters. Trying to brush off his failure to answer a simple question, you focused on your one major victory for the evening. Well, other than not being screamed at. Whether or not he was aware, General Hux had just divulged something very dangerous. It wasn’t the smoking. It wasn’t the jazz. It wasn’t even the cat.

It was that he had a penchant for sweets.  


	2. Two

“Nonsense, don’t worry about it. After all, it is your birthday tomorrow.” You heard Colonel Bridger saying to Mitaka as they rounded the corner.

“Forgive my eavesdropping, but did I hear that correctly?” You stepped in place behind the men. “Is it your birthday tomorrow?”

“Yes, but please don’t make a fuss.” He smiled as he said it, knowing full well you would. 

“What’s your favorite kind of dessert?” Mitaka was easily one of your favorite men in your new sector. In the past couple weeks since you’d begun there, he’d been the most patient and understanding, and the look on his face when you replied to his requests with ‘already done, sir’ was absolutely adorable. 

“Chocolate chip cookies.” He admitted. “I know it’s plain, but they remind me of my mother.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself. And you could have said something like Sarlacc terrine, which  _ is _ considered a delicacy on some planets.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” Bridger piped up. 

“Well, I’ll let you gentlemen retire. Shall I send up some dinner in half an hour?”

“What would we do without you?” 

The next day, as soon as your men left for their days, caf and mid morning snacks in hand, you headed towards the kitchens. They would be getting ready for lunch, but as long as you stayed out of the way, Gloria, the head chef, had never minded your interference. 

Tying on an apron, you began by browning butter in a pan until it started to smell like caramel. You set it in the blast freezer for a few moments to resolidify, then started beating it together with sugar, gathering up more ingredients while the mixer ran. In a few short minutes, a creamy cookie dough had formed. A double-batch, just for good measure. 

Once the dough had been scooped onto a massive sheet tray and sent to the oven, you were wondering if perhaps a triple-batch would have been better. Several cooks were drawn over by the smell, and you knew you’d have to leave some behind as a thank you for letting you use their space. 

Your own mouth watered as you removed the tray, pillowy soft cookies the size of your fist, the craggy surface just begging you to bite down into the molten pockets of chocolate. You couldn’t resist, you broke a piece off one and shoved it into your mouth, regretting it instantly and nearly spitting all over the counter. Your second bite you allowed to cool first, and as you chewed, you silently thanked your father for teaching you to bake all those years ago. 

You packed a dozen cookies up for Mitaka, then brought the rest on a tray up to the fourteenth floor. You stopped in each suite but two, plating up a half-dozen cookies and leaving them on the table as a nice surprise. You then delivered Mitaka his box, but you didn’t enter Hux’s suite. Instead, you placed the tray, with the remaining two dozen or so cookies, in the broom closet nearby, biding your time. 

Around 1730, you got what you were waiting for. Hux wanted you to deliver a datapad into the hands of Captain Phasma. You stopped by the closet first, balancing the tray on your hip as you swiped yourself into his suite. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening. What are those?” He feigned disinterest, but the ever-so-slight bite to his lower lip gave him away. 

“Cookies, sir. I made them for Lieutenant Mitaka’s birthday. These are the spares, I’m sending them back to the kitchens. I had a droid deliver some to each room.” You projected an innocent expression onto your face.

“I seem to have been overlooked. Perhaps a faulty droid. Anyway, if you’ll just deliver--”

“Well that won’t do. I’ll just plate a few up for you before I go. I’m sure you had a long day, you deserve a treat.” You grinned at him.

“I...wouldn’t say no to a couple. Be quick, I need that  _ in hand _ within the hour.” Hux walked back to his office, sinking back into his desk chair without a glance to you. Gleefully, you went to the kitchen, pulling down a plate practically dumping the entire tray of cookies onto it. Not wanting to give him a chance to ask why you had just given him two dozen cookies, you snatched the datapad and bolted for Phasmas office. 

***

Just as you kicked your left shoe off, you realized. Your  _ own _ datapad was still in Hux’s room. It wasn’t that late, only 2000, and considering he had ordered dinner later than this multiple times it would probably be easiest to just go fetch it now, rather than wait until morning. 

Putting your accursed shoe back on, you trudged back up to the fourteenth floor, swiping yourself into Hux’s quarters. It would be best, you thought, if you could sneak in and out without him noticing. You heard music trickling from his office, and tried to creep silently into the kitchen, where your datapad was sitting next to the sink. The plate of cookies, however, was gone, not even a crumb left behind to suggest anything had ever been there at all. You smirked, pleased with your victory. 

As you began your way back out, you noticed movement from Hux’s office. Only his desk lamp was on, the ghoulish blue light a stark contrast for the familiar yellow you were accustomed to. As usual, Hux was surrounded by datapads and jazz drifted softly about the room, Millicent curled up and sleeping in the corner of the desk. What was unusual was the rhythmic jerking of Hux’s hand in his lap, long lithe fingers wrapped snugly around his pretty pink cock, eyes resting gently shut as his mouth hang agape.

You knew you should not be here, should not be watching this. You should have announced your presence and taken the snarky remark he would have handed you. But here you were: Staring, as your clit began to pound and your cheeks flushed. Hux gave the barest sigh as he shifted his hips, slouching properly now in his desk chair. 

You watched in abject lust in amazement as he picked up one of your cookies from the plate on the desk and shoved it into his mouth, moaning around it as he doubled his efforts. Chocolate was smeared on his lips, and his soft tummy was just barely peeking out from where his uniform had rucked up, blush spreading from the tips of his ears down past his collar, and it was all so strange, and wrong, and the most wonderful thing you had ever been blessed enough to witness. 

You wanted to stay and watch him, but you knew two things 1) If he caught you, you would certainly be fired, if not killed. 2) If you didn’t give some relief to your throbbing loins, you were going to explode. So you retreated back to the door, closing it behind you as quietly as you had entered. You practically ran back to your quarters, shucking your panties to your knees as soon as your shoulder blades hit the back of the door. Hiking your dress up to your waist, your fingers found your dripping mound, rubbing deep, frenzied circles around your clit.

You pictured yourself marching into that office and straddling Hux, settling that lovely cock into your folds and grinding your hips into him as you brushed crumbs from his jacket. You could practically smell the combined perfume of sex and chocolate that would surround you while you rode him, tucking another cookie in his mouth, then another, until he whined that  _ he couldn’t, he was too full, please darling _ \--You shuddered against the doorframe as your orgasm nearly knocked you to your knees. 

You had never thought of General Hux in this way before. You would admit, when pressed, that he was rather handsome. You had entertained vague thoughts of food in the bedroom before, but not like this, never like this. This was all utterly new and terrifying and delicious. 

***

_ I will be gone for three cycles starting tomorrow. You will take care of Millicent. Report to me this evening for instructions. _

You couldn’t help but grin as you read the message from Hux, certain you must have passed some kind of test. The thought popped into your head that the cookies had something to do with it, then immediately banished the thought. You had far too much to do yet that morning to get started down that road. 

It had been nearly a week since that night you had spied on Hux as he got himself off. The scene seemed to play on constant loop in your head, combined with the utterly confusing web of emotions you were now forced to confront. Did you want to sleep with Hux?  _ Obviously. _ Did you want to  _ feed _ him while you did it?  _ Probably. _ Was that...normal?  _ Does it matter? _

You had been doing some serious searching on the holonet, using secret proxies to get you past the usual blocks on, ahem, adult content. This sort of desire wasn’t totally unheard of, though it was usually coupled with a desire for your partner to gain weight. You liked Hux the size he was now, though a little more meat on his bones would make him look less like an abandoned orphan. You decided it had to do with control. Some people liked to be tied up and spanked. Some liked to be hand-fed slices of cake until they felt like they would burst. It was about trust, about knowing your partner would never  _ really _ do a single thing to hurt you. 

And, you sheepishly admitted, you just wanted to care for him. General Hux, from what you had observed, slept for approximately five hours a night, had his meals only when hunger cues began to interfere with his ability to work, and had once chugged extra-strong caf with three extra energy shots  _ without blinking _ . He  _ needed _ someone to take care of him. To feed him a proper meal and tuck him into bed afterwards. If the idea of doing that also made you a little bit wet, well, that was probably a bit messed up, but you didn’t care. 

At the moment though, you had another ginger to care for. Millicent meowed loudly as you entered Hux’s suite that evening, pawing gently at your leg. “I will  _ feed you _ in a  _ moment _ .” The General’s voice called irritably from his office. “In here, Y/N.”

“Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening. As I said, I need you to care for Millicent in my absence. If you’ll follow me.” He finished typing something, setting down the datapad on a somewhat precarious stack of datapads and stepping into the kitchen. “Here is her food. She gets  _ one _ scoop in the morning and  _ one _ in the evening, no matter how much she begs.” The comment seemed to be directed more towards Millicent than you, who chirped happily as Hux poured the little pebbles into a dish near the table. “Please make sure she has fresh water every day.” He gestured to the bowl adjacent to the food dish. 

Hux showed you her litter box, which was nestled in his ‘fresher, then led you into his living room, which you had never seen before. Huge paintings hung from each wall, save for the farthest, which was panelled with half-filled bookcases. The paintings were abstract, mainly featuring reds and blues, with a few golds shining through. “Those are lovely, sir. May I ask where you got them?”

“Thank you. They are my own work.” He stated it so plainly, no hint of either pride or embarrassment. “In this cabinet you will find her brush and her toys. She needs brushing at  _ least _ every other day, but everyday is best. The little fish on a string is her favorite toy.” He closed the cabinet, pointing towards his bedroom. “If you cannot find her, she is probably under my bed. If she gets out, alert me immediately and I can activate the tracker on her collar. Any questions?”

“How did--”

“Five years ago, on Naboo. I was on holiday, staying in a rather lowbrow hotel. Millicent was pawing at my window, meowing to be let in. At around 0300, I couldn’t take it anymore, I stepped outside with my blaster ready to...Anyway, the hotel burst into flames. Some sort of gas leak.” Hux blinked, as if that story explained everything. Millicent trotted into the room, winding around the General’s legs. 

“I see. Well, I’ll be happy to care for her while you’re away. Can I order you some dinner?”

“Yes.” Hux leaned down, scooping the furry creature into his arms. “You’ve had yours, it’s only fair that I have mine.” 

“I’ll send that through right away.” Another victory. “By the way, I never got to ask you if you enjoyed those cookies the other day. It’s a new recipe, I’m rather eager for feedback.”

“They were excellent. I confess I finished them a little faster than I probably should have.” His words sent a lurch through your stomach. Why were you doing this to yourself? Your eyes drifted to his hand, as his fingers lazily circled Millicents belly. Such perfect hands. Those fingers, you could imagine them in your hair, around your neck, deftly swirling around your cunt--“If that’s all...?” 

“Yes, sir. Have a safe trip.” You excused yourself, feeling the warmth spreading across your cheeks. This was getting absurd. He was your boss. You refused to be another Hall Girl who lost her position because she was stupid enough to sleep with her client. Qui-Qui hadn’t been gone a month, you reminded yourself. Remember her mistakes. Don’t let yourself have these foolish fantasies. 

You told yourself that night as you lie in bed that it was good Hux would be gone for a few days. Being rid of him could only clear your mind. But as you let yourself into his suite the next morning, the burning desire to explore was overwhelming. Once Millicent was happily devouring her breakfast, you peered into the other kitchen cupboards. 

Fairly run-of-the-mill groceries, meal replacement bars, instant soups and rices, a canister of oats. Staple foods for a man like him. You were impressed by his spice cabinet, perhaps he did know how to cook and simply lacked the time and energy. Nothing out of the ordinary otherwise. 

His refresher was equally dull, you weren’t entirely sure what kind of secrets you had hoped to uncover there. You were still afraid to enter his bedroom, the only room you hadn’t been given express permission to occupy, so you instead moved to the living room, calling Millicent over for her brushing. As you groomed the sleepy cat, you gazed at the mural across from you. You wondered how long ago he had painted it, as he surely didn’t have time now for such activities. Once Millicent was sound asleep, you stood, tilting your head to the side to read the spines on the books against the wall. Mostly histories and military strategy. Some mystery novels, a few classics. Several in a language you couldn’t recognize. And all the way in the bottom corner, three tattered poetry books. 

Satisfied in your snooping, you gave Millicent a final pat and left. 

***

The next two days passed quietly by, and you rather enjoyed your visits to Hux’s room. Millicent truly was a lovely cat, always eager for attention, bounding over to greet you as you walked through the door. Except on the final night before Hux was to return, she was nowhere to be found. Hoping to draw her out with the sound, you filled her food bowl, the hard pellets dropping noisily into the metal dish. Nothing. Remembering what Hux had said, you marched diligently to his bedroom. Laying flat to the floor, you peered under his bed, squinting. Sure enough, you could see a round ball of fuzz, rising and falling with steady breath. Peeling yourself off the floor, you noticed how  _ good _ it smelled in here. Like body wash and vanilla candles and man. 

His room was fairly plain, though another of his paintings hung on the wall near the door. There was an indent on his bed absolutely coated with fur, where Millicent must have slept. Opening his closet, he owned very few clothes beyond his uniforms. You didn’t even see sleeping clothes. A nagging thought informed you that must mean he slept in his undershirt and briefs. Or totally nude. 

Closing the closet with a snap, you moved to the nightstand. It had three drawers, the first containing boring necessities, painkillers, earplugs, lip balm. The second drawer was much more interesting. A full bottle of lubricant, a small curved purple vibrator, and a box of condoms that had yet to be opened. Unusual, as STI testing was part of your mandatory checkups every 6 months, and birth control was free and strongly encouraged. Still, you reasoned, Hux was a man who preferred to have a back-up plan. 

The thought occurred to you, not for the first time, that Hux’s interests in the bedroom could be purely vanilla. He was a very busy man. Combining the act of masturbating and eating was just good time management. The discovery that you found the idea of feeding your lover rather large portions of cream-filled pastries while giving them a firm but gentle handjob incredibly arousing was probably in vain. The odds of finding a person who shared those thoughts was not only improbable, it was impossible. Best to forget the whole idea altogether. 

The third drawer was the largest, and when you yanked on the handle it stuck, something inside sticking up too high and preventing it from opening. You jammed your fingers in, pressing down on what you realized was a jar of peanut butter. The drawer slid open, and you audibly gasped. 

It was stuffed to the brim with food. Not just food, you realized, sweets. Snack-size candy bars and pudding cups and individually-wrapped brownies, brightly-colored boxes of gummy candies, a tin of shortbread cookies, dark chocolates filled with caramel, nougat, and cream. 

It didn’t take your brain long to start putting things together. Hux might be ashamed of all the junk he ate, and not want to store his indulgences in the kitchen. However, Hux lived alone. There was nobody but Millicent to judge him. So, maybe Hux just liked to eat in bed. There. A perfectly reasonable explanation. As much as you wanted Hux to be snacking on this smorgaboard of goodies while he got his rocks off, there simply wasn’t enough evi--Wait a second. 

His office. It was a small room, you suspected it had once been a closet once. You were careful not to disturb the swarm of datapads as you carefully eased open the wide top drawer. Just some spare parts, a keyboard, and several wireless mice. The three drawers on the left hand side were equally disappointing, mostly files. The top drawer on the right side held some office supplies, as well as a framed photo of a young Hux, graduating from the Academy, his father’s arm around his shoulder. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little...softer. Not much, you knew how rigorous the training was, but there was a slight pooch pressing against his uniform top, the sharp angles of his face rounded out just barely. 

The second drawer was where you found your jackpot. The same rainbow assortment of candies and snacks, combined with a thin pack of tissues and a half-empty bottle of lube. So, General Hux made a habit of jerking off at his desk. And the evidence was beginning to suggest he did enjoy something to nibble on while he did it. You could see it now, flicking on the desk lamp to enhance your fantasies. Hux, stressed and frustrated and craving relief. It would start with the snacks, you figured. He would unwrap a three-pack of cupcakes, the first one disappearing before he had a chance to think. The second one leaving a smear of cream along his lip as he licked crumbs off his finger. By the third one, he’s settling a hand over his crotch, palming the stiffening bulge, trying to read one more mission report before he gives in. 

He would swipe another treat from the drawer at random, ripping the top off the box of gummy tauntauns, unzipping his fly and feeling the cool air against his hot, hard dick. It would go quickly after that, too many things still to be done, snatching up the lube and squirting it onto the head of his cock, smearing it along the length. A sigh would fall from his mouth, maybe a muttered curse, quickly muffled when he picks up the box of candy, tilting it into his mouth, knowing this is fucked-up and weird, but now he’s stroking himself in earnest, head thrown back as he swallows thickly--You’re pulled from your fantasy by the realization that your fingers have wormed their way into your panties. You commit to the idea and lean against the desk as you try to make yourself more comfortable, spreading your knees apart. It’s not working for you, so you shuck your nylons all together, letting your panties dangle off one ankle, and sit down into Hux’s desk chair, hooking your legs over their side. You’re spread wide now, so utterly depraved, and you put your hand back where it’ll do the most good, closing your eyes to resume the fantasy. 

Hux is getting close now, his wrist beginning to ache with the exertion. He pours the rest of the gummies into this mouth, filling it almost full but it’s not enough. He reaches a hand down to the strip of pale skin visible above his groin, so  _ flat _ and  _ empty. _ He just wants to feel  _ full _ , to feel  _ something _ in this endless vacuum of space, to lose himself in the pleasures of sugar and fat and sex, wants someone to tell him he’s done well, that he’s being so good, that he deserves everything, every last thing he wants--You’re absurdly close to your orgasm when the door opens, heavy footfalls soundless compared to the pounding of your own heart. 

You rush to close your legs, yanking your panties back up, but it’s hopeless. Your tights are tangled in the wheels of the desk chair, your cheeks are flushed, breathing too fast, and the entire office absolutely reeks of pussy. General Hux walks in, looking like he hasn’t slept in days, and surveys the situation. “Really, YN?” 

You open your mouth to speak, then close it. You wipe your hands pathetically on your dress, extricating your tights from the desk chair, and closing the desk drawer, standing in front of Hux, head bowed, waiting for your inevitable sacking.

“Let me see if I understand the situation correctly.” He sounds tired, so tired, but beyond that he’s not angry, exactly. He’s not using his General Voice, but something more...timid. “You decided to snoop through my things, despite your explicit statement that you had no interest in such activities.” You nod, cheeks turning redder. “Then, you discover my snack drawer, and are apparently so overcome with lust, you need to relieve yourself in my desk chair. Is that accurate?”

“May I be dismissed, sir?” You plead, tears threatening to spill. “I know I’m fired.”

“I asked you a question.” He doesn’t bark the order, just states it plainly.

“Yes, sir.” You reply after a pause. 

“May I ask what was so alluring about a few boxes of candy that you could not contain yourself until your work was complete?” The words send a zap to your cunt, your arousal still surging through you like strong drink. 

“With respect sir, that is private information, I don’t believe I’m required to divulge it.” You would not make the situation worse by being honest. 

“Surely, if you get so riled up by seeing some snacks, every trip to the kitchens must be a nightmare.” You don’t have to look at his face to know he’s amused. “The baking of cookies utter torture.” He trips over the last word, and you cringe watching him connect the dots. He’s silent for a long moment, taking a few steps away and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. “You’re dismissed, Y/N.”

“Sir?”

“I am...far too tired to deal with this tonight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, heading towards his bedroom. 

“Goodnight, sir.” You tucked your nylons into your pocket, pulled your shoes back on, and left, knowing you’d never see the inside of this suite again.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the Sin™️
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been so kind and enthusiastic in the comments! This is my first time writing in a long time, and my first time writing for such a specific kink. Your words mean the world to me ♥️

In the morning, you wait for the inevitable comlink telling you to gather your things and prepare to be escorted to a transport shuttle. But it never comes. You consider asking Baz if General Hux has filed any sort of complaint against you, but think better of it. Perhaps he was just too embarrassed, you think. Or so tired he simply forgot the entire ordeal. Yes, that was plausible. There was nothing else to do but go to work. And so you did. 

The day passed unceremoniously. Mitaka glumly informed you around lunchtime that whatever mission Hux had been on, it hadn’t gone well. He’d been in a mood all day. You felt terrible, the poor man returned from a grueling trip, full of disappointment and fatigue only to be confronted with his errand girl flaunting her kinks in his face. You would give him a wide berth for a few days, you decided as you returned home for the night. Send droids to attend his needs--Chirp!

_ Dinner. _

You had the droid request form already half-filled when the next message from Hux came through. 

_ Quickly.  _

How strange. If he was in a hurry for food, he had plenty in his kitchen. And if he had somewhere to be, he could tell you where--Ooh. You moved faster than a droid, you had told him on multiple occasions. This was his indirect method for telling you to deliver his meal  _ yourself _ .

You went down to the kitchens, dutifully loading a bowl with leftover veggie stir-fry, heart pounding as you cut an enormous cinnamon roll from a pan that was probably intended for tomorrow's breakfast, sliding it onto a plate. The tray felt too heavy, your arms shaking as the elevator brought you higher, a cheerful voice announcing your arrival to the fourteenth floor. 

Opening the door to Hux’s suite, you were surprised to find the General not in his office, but seated at the tiny table in his kitchen, languidly stroking Millicent and waiting for you. You set the tray down with a clatter, squeaking out an “Evening, sir.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He set Millicent down, and she plodded over to her own food bowl. “Could you…?”

“Of course.” You were supremely grateful to have something to do other than watch Hux eat, trying to draw out the process of pouring some cat food into a dish as long as possible. 

“You’re not fired.” Hux blurted rather suddenly, before shoving an enormous piece of broccoli between his teeth. 

“Thank you, sir.” You stood from where you had been crouched, scratching the cat under the chin how she liked. “Am I dismissed, sir?” You had hoped for a simple nod of the head, but were forced to watch as Hux worked through the huge amount of noodles he had just shoveled between his lips. You wanted to walk over there, run your fingers through his hair and lay a hand on his stomach, tell him he was doing so good, don’t go too fast, there’s plenty left and you don’t want to get sick before you’re finished, do you bab--

“No.” The word fell from his mouth along with a few crumbs as he took a long pull from his drink. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

“You’re not dismissed.” The tips of his ears were bright pink. 

“Is there...A task you have for me?” You swallowed. 

“I...This…Oh stars, you’re uncomfortable.” A look of worry and regret, neither of which you’d ever seen on him before, spread across his features. 

“I’m quite alright, sir. Just tell me what you’d like me to do.” Your voice came out honey-soaked, a foreign, comforting silkiness draped around the words. 

“I’m...Not particularly good at this sort of thing.” Hux stated, his fork finally resting for a moment. “I’m slightly anxious that….I’d never want you to...”

“I’m not going to laugh at you.” You stepped closer to the table, eyes wide, hardly believing this was actually happening. He relaxed at your words, just a little. 

“I want you to stay and watch me eat, and I think you want to stay and watch me eat.” The words poured out of him in a rush, and his shoulders sagged once he’d said them, as if that sentence had taken a great deal of exertion to convey. His eyes were glued to the table, the flush spreading clear across his face now and down his neck. 

Carefully, you reached a hand out and placed it, palm up, in front of him. “I’d like that very much, sir.” His hand slid forwards, his palm coming to rest against your own, fingers brushing against your wrist. It was clammy, and as you gave it a slight squeeze you came to the stunning realization that General Hux had absolutely  _ no idea what he was doing _ . You’d heard plenty of people talk about how they’d like to fuck him, let him take advantage of them, how they wanted him to bark orders at them and tie them up, slap their ass while he savagely plowed their hole, sneering and smirking all the while. 

The man across from you, at that moment, looked capable of precisely none of that. Gone was the fierce warlord, replaced by a man who had been terrified at the concept of making you uncomfortable. His eyes finally jumped up to meet yours, and he looked almost like a schoolboy, waiting for instruction. “Go on then, I know you’re hungry.” You nodded at his bowl, and he forked another massive mouthful, jamming it in eagerly. He was actually getting close to polishing off the entire portion, and your heart fluttered wondering what precisely the next steps were going to be. 

“Who eats a cinnamon bun cold?” His words startled you, and you jumped up, snatching the plate from him. “I could have done it.”

“Nonsense, you had a long day.” The standard rhetoric fell easily from your lips. “This is my job, sir.” You pulled the warm plate from the microwave, setting it down in front of him as your eyes locked. “To take  _ care _ of you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He said it under his breath, but you beamed. “Kriff, that’s hot!”

“Let me.” Your eyes pleaded with his, and he nodded. You weren’t sure he even understood what you were asking, or simply wanted to explore as much of  _ whatever this was _ as he could, gobbling it up just like he had his dinner. You pinched off a chunk of the hot bun, not caring in the least how it burned your fingers, pursing your lips and blowing. You held it up to Hux’s lips, and he opened, eyes boring into yours, letting you feed him the sugary strip of dough. The feeling of his lips grazing your fingers, tongue poking out to lick a stray crumb from his cheek as he chewed and swallowed, it was all too much, making your clit pound and your head swim.

You ripped off another chunk, bigger this time, and blew, watching Hux’s chest rise and fall, the intensity in his gaze almost making you look away. You again offered the morsel, and he took it eagerly, making the tiniest noise of delight as you withdrew your hand, making sure another bite was ready by the time he swallowed. Another two bites, and all that remained was the gooey, syrup-soaked core, and you used it to sop up the frosting that had dripped onto the plate. Hux’s breath was more labored now, the tent in his pants painfully obvious. Your own crotch was burning, aching for stimulus.

You crammed the last, enormous bite between his lips and he closed his eyes as he worked through the huge lump of squishy, sugary joy. Just as he swallowed, he grabbed your fingers, licking the excess icing off and sending bolts of pleasure right to your cunt. 

Your first kiss tasted like cinnamon and sugar. You weren’t totally sure how it happened, one moment you were trying not to moan as Hux sucked frosting off your thumb, the next you were straddling him, mouth pressed against his, raking sticky fingers through those ginger locks and listening to the gorgeous little sounds he made in response. “Perfect.” You purred against his cheek. “You’re perfect. How do you feel?”

“Quite full.” He smiled shyly, still so unsure of how to proceed, of what you wanted from him. 

“Mmm. Is this okay?” You asked, moving to unbutton his top. He nodded. “I wanna see your tummy, how full you must be, how stuffed.” You kissed at his jaw while your fingers worked. 

“Perhaps not all that stuffed.” Hux relented. “Not as--” He stopped himself, embarrassed. 

“Not as stuffed as you’d like? Or not as stuffed as you’ve been?” You asked, pushing his shirt open. He pulled it off, leaving him in a plain black undershirt.

“Erm, both.”

You had a mental image of him, belly swollen and painful as he fisted his cock, empty plates piled neatly atop his desk, crumbs falling to his chest as he lifted a fork to his lips--“Stars, you have no idea what that does to me.” You rasped, kissing him hard again. 

“Really?” His eyes scanned you, looking for signs of deception. 

“No, sir, I just hand-fed you a cinnamon roll the size of your head because I was worried you’d fire me otherwise.” You smirked.

“Don’t tease me please, I-I’m not used to--To getting--To someone wanting--” He sighed, deciding what exactly he was trying to say. 

“Sir?” You lifted his chin. “I want you to fuck me. Would you, please?” You wished you’d have set up a camera, because the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

“Yes.” He finally said. “Shall we um, should we…?” He gestured vaguely to the bedroom, and you kissed him once more before climbing off his lap. 

“Have you done this before, sir?” You asked as you let him pull you towards the bedroom. 

“Armitage.” He stopped, turning to face you. “My uh, you don’t have to call me sir. Unless you want to! I know...Some people like that sort of thing. Armitage is my name.” 

“Armitage.” You tried it out, liking the way the name felt in your mouth. 

“And yes.” He said. “I have done this before. Just...Not a lot. Not properly. And...not with you.” You got a warm feeling in your chest at the implication. 

“I should wash my hands.” You realized, having been about to start unzipping your dress. “I’m all sticky.”

“Yes, the um--” He stopped himself, realizing you did in fact, know where his refresher was. Upon returning, you found the lights dimmed, a few candles burning on the nightstand, the bottle of lube sitting patiently beside them. You paused, surveying the work as Hux shooed Millicent out of the room. “Too much?”

“No! It’s uh...I’m used to cramped bunks and hurried shower sex. This,” You gestured to everything, “Is luxury.”

“I rather like the idea of spoiling you.” Hux stepped closer, placing a single finger on your chin to tilt your head up and kissing you softly, placing a hand on your neck to support you. “Take off your dress.” You obeyed, stripping the garment and tossing it to the side. You put your hands on your bra, raising your brows. “That can go, too.” A smirk was playing at his lips as you unclipped it, flinging it towards your pile. “Lovely.” He kissed you again, cupping one of your breasts, thumb flicking softly over your nipple and you twitched. He pulled away, worried he’d done something wrong, but you pick up both of his hands, placing them firmly on your tits, guiding him to squeeze and knead them. “Lie down.” He was still giving orders, in a way, but each one was cloaked in an air of warmth, and delivered so gently you knew he was really asking permission. 

He settled you on the bed with your legs hanging off, and made short work of removing your shoes, setting them neatly to the side of the bed, before kissing just below your belly button, placing his index fingers on either side of your nylons. “Please.” You whined in response to his silent pleading, and he peeled them off along with your panties, guiding your knees apart so you were spread for him.

He didn’t know what to do. It was endearing, really. He was too afraid to get it wrong that he just stared at your folds for a moment before you caught on. “Start with broad strokes, Armitage.” You suggested, and he listened, his tongue lapping widely at your swollen sex. “That’s perfect, so good, use your fingers darling, just open me up a bit, yeah?” Thumbs on either side of your labia were stretching you gently open, but he continued his licking, his tongue now hitting your clit on each stroke. “Wonderful, just like that, just like that, now you can put your fingers in me, if you like.” No sooner had you said it than two fingers were tentatively sliding into your dripping pussy. “Ooh that’s good, that’s perfect. Now just lick my--Kriff!” He was catching on fast, sucking your clit into his mouth, your back arching off the bed. “That’s perfect, perfect, don’t stop, please don’t stop…” You kept up a litany of nonsensical praise as his tongue flicked at your nub, fingers fucking you in earnest now, spreading obscene sounds across the room. Your fingers settled in his hair, clutching for dear life as your orgasm hit you, the force of it after such a long buildup nearly reducing you to tears. 

“ _ Stars _ , that was good.” You panted, Hux appearing from under you with that same lazy smirk on his face. “Come here, Armitage. Get undressed.” He wasted no time, appearing beside you fully nude in moments. “There’s that beautiful cock. Let me tell you a secret.” A wicked smile spread across your face. “Do you remember that night I gave you all those cookies?”

“Hard to forget.” 

“Here, lie back against the pillows. That’s right, you took such good care of me, you did so well.” You picked up the lube, squirting some into your hand before wrapping your fingers around his dick. “Do you remember what you did that night?”

“I...Yes,  _ I _ remember, but--”

“I came back.” You swung your leg over him, sitting on his hips, still working his length in your hands. “I forgot my datapad, so I came back, and I saw you, touching this perfect cock while you stuffed yourself silly on  _ my _ cookies. 

“And what did you think, watching your superior officer get off on thoughts of  _ you _ ?” His voice had turned husky, and you smacked a quick kiss to his lips. 

“I barely made it back to my room.” You confessed, lifting your hips so you could sink down on his length, and Hux threw his head back against the pillow, letting out the most delicious little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I came harder than I ever have, thinking of you. Thinking of this.” Your words became shaky as you started bouncing in his lap. “Kriff, Armitage, your cock fills me so well.” He could only manage more of those beautiful whimpers in reply. 

“Close.” He finally squeaked out, and you ground your hips down on him, trying to stimulate your clit enough for a second orgasm. 

“I’m right behind you, please Armitage, you’ve done so good, been so good to me--” He jerked his hips up, letting out a gasping sort of moan as he spills into you. The sound alone is enough to tip you over, letting out a little “stars, Armitage” as you come down. 

Exhausted, you roll off his dick and onto your back. An air of awkwardness descended swiftly upon the two of you, like a spray of cold water. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Hux broke the silence, reaching for his discarded trousers.

“By all means. I’m gonna...pee.” You slid off the bed and towards the ‘fresher, doing your business and wiping at the mess running down your thighs with a warm washcloth. Grasping the sides of the sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Hair falling from it’s carefully configured bun, cheeks still flush, a smear of cinnamon-sugar on your neck of all places. You felt good, in a way you hadn’t in a long time, satisfied in the deliverance of something you’d been so long craving. But you couldn’t help the icy squirt of guilt deep in your chest. He was your  _ boss.  _

Hux was propped against the headboard when you returned, using his free hand to pet Millicent, who had curled into a perfect circle in his lap. “I see I’ve been replaced.” A half-smile twitched at his lip before he took a heavy drag on his cigarette. “I’ll, um, I’ll just get dressed.”

Hux looked like he wanted to say something. You hoped, of course you did, that it was to ask you to stay. But he was far too practical. You watched him swallow, the slightest hint of a frown appearing on his face. He asked you to lock the door on your way out.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the somewhat obligatory Fluffy Getting-Together Chapter. After this it's going to become less of a structured plot and much more of a chapters-unrelated, slice-of-life, what-kinky-adventures-are-Y/N-and-Hux-up-to-this-week sort of a thing. Again, thank you all for the lovely kudos and comments <3

You wished, not for the first time, that there was somebody on this accursed ship that you could talk to. You helped Kiara with some errands a few days later, listening to her prattle on about inane gossip, whether or not Vriska really deserved that promotion, or if it was just because she--”Shut up!” You finally snapped.

“What’s with you?” Kiara’s brows furrowed. 

“I’m sorry, I just,” You sighed, pushing hair from your face, “I’m going through some...shitty personal stuff.”

“What kind of personal stuff?” Kiara was your closest friend. You had been promoted at almost exactly the same time, given rooms directly across the hall. You’d done each other thousands of small favors, each one forgettable, but amounting to something much larger. “You know you can tell me.”

“No, I actually can’t. For once, my life is exciting enough to warrant  _ secrets _ .” You crossed your arms, sitting petulantly on the floor,

Kiara smiled knowingly, kneeling in front of you. “If it’s something you can’t tell me, I can probably guess well enough.”

“Please don’t.”

“I wont.” She surprised you. “You’re the only Hall Girl who’s not a power-hungry beyotch. Plus, you’re kinda the closest thing I’ve got to a best friend.”

“Truly heartwarming sentiments.” You tried not to smile. 

“If you can’t tell me exactly what’s happening, tell me how I can help.” She sat down beside you, lacing her fingers in yours. 

“Okay, but you don’t get to ask any questions.”

“Deal.”

“So...say something happened. With a guy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And now he hasn’t spoken to me in like...three days? But!” You quickly cut off what she was about to say. “I genuinely don’t think he was just in it for the sex. Or at least...I hope not.” There had been radio silence from Hux since that night, not one word. You knew it probably meant he regretted the whole ordeal and wanted some breathing room before you had to resume your working relationship, and you should just count yourself lucky he hadn’t fired you. 

Still, the way he had treated you, his apprehension at even approaching the subject, the willingness to show his blatant lack of experience and a healthy dose of vulnerability...You had a hard time believing he would go through all that for a one-night stand. You could still hear his voice in your head: I’ve done this before but...Not with you.

“Well, there’s a few possibilities there.” Kiara snapped you back to reality. “First, he was just in it for the sex. Sad, but true. Second, he’s just busy. Lots of _ guys _ are.” She emphasized  _ guys  _ heavily, implying she knew you were talking about a man in your sector. “Third, maybe he’s waiting on you. Maybe he thought you had a bad time, so he’s licking his wounds and lying low.”

“That...seems unlikely.” General Hux was nothing if not self-assured. Beyond that, you had come totally undone under him, babbling inane words of praise and wonder. “But it’s probably for the best, right?” 

Kiara gave a tentative nod. “You know all I want is to see you happy. Well, and to see myself in early retirement with a healthy pension. But your happiness is right up there.” You laughed, for the first time in far too long. “I don’t want to see you lose your position for poking sleeping bears. If something happened, it happened. But...maybe it’s best to leave it there.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” That was settled, then. “Thank you, Kiara.” You were lucky, you mused, to have been given such a sweet taste of your deepest fantasies. 

“Anytime. And uh, anytime you feel like divulging any more details, I’d be happy to listen to that, too.” She pushed herself up off the ground, offering you her hand. 

“What do you say we filch a few bottles of wine and sneak up to the top floor tonight?” You suggested, pulling yourself up to your feet. 

“I’ve got a bottle of Corellian gin I’ve been saving.” A wicked smile spread across Kiaras face.

“Where on earth did you get that?” You squealed.

“Belated Hanukkah present from Commander Fitzgerald. Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you about him tonight, too.”

***

That evening, you and Kiara tried not to giggle as you slipped past the Troopers on patrol, all the way to the twentieth floor, which was little more than a huge conference room with ceilings and walls on either side made of transparisteel, the best view on the Finalizer. Prying off your shoes and flinging them towards the door, you flopped backwards onto the sprawling table in the center of the room. “Oof. I forgot how nice it is up here.”

“Here, you can do the honors.” Kiara passed you the bottle of gin and you twisted off the cap, taking a swig of the piney, botanical spirit. 

“Thanks. Now, what’s this about Commander Fitz?” You passed the bottle back.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I know I’m just a cute, young thing for him to flirt with.”

“Corellian booze is no joke. Start at the beginning.” You settled back onto the table, watching the stars drift lazily by as Kiara detailed the fairly tame relationship brewing between herself and Fitzgerald. You passed the bottle back and forth, and it warmed you up enough to stop wishing you’d brought a blanket with you. 

“Okay. Your turn.” Kiara prodded you in the chest, having had her fair share of the strong, expensive drink. 

“Well, kriff.” You huffed. “Not much to say, I s’pose.”

“No way. You can do better than that.” 

“Okay, okay.” You rolled over to face her, sitting uncomfortably on your datapad for a moment before you wiggled it out from beneath you. “I mean, okay, I’m still not telling you who. But he’s...It all started when I caught him jackin’ off.”

“No way!”

“Yeah! And like, if you knew who it was, you’d be like,  _ ahh! _ Anyway, it also turned me on to this weird fetish I did  _ not  _ know I was into but that’s like,  _ totally _ a story for another day.”

“Ooh, girl. Weirder than when Adam used to choke you?”

“Shut up, that was hot. Anyway, so I’m totally lusting after this guy now, but kriffing heck, just my luck, I catch feelings for the dude too.”

“Isn’t that always how it goes?” Kiara nods understandingly.

“But anyway, he finds out we’re into the same kinky shit, and we end up sleeping together.”

“Wait, how did he find out?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You weren’t about to tell her about you masturbating in Hux’s office, no matter how drunk you were. “So we do the do, and I’m like, totally expecting him to be this powerhouse in the bedroom, no-nonsense, bam, bam, bam, but he’s so sweet? And like, passionate and attentive and shit?”

“Sounds pretty solid!”

“It was! But now he’s not really talking to me. So like...I figure I musta been just a body after all.”

“Bummer.” Kiara put her arm on your shoulder. “His loss. Seriously.”

“Nah, pretty sure it was my loss.” You noticed the display of your datapad was still glowing, so you reached a hand up to smack the sleep button. “Ugh. It’s getting late, we should sleep or we’re gonna be more lifeless than the droids tomorrow.”

“This was nice, though.” Kiara awkwardly flopped on top of you, squeezing you tight.

“Yeah, it was. Thanks for listening. And for sharing your good stuff with me.”

“Any time.” 

***

You seriously considered sending a droid when Hux summoned you the next day, feigning sickness or some important errand bestowed on you by Mitaka or Bridger. But no, you were going to have to learn to navigate the situation, and the sooner the better. You were really starting to miss Millicent. 

The cat greeted you at the door, and you scooped her up in your arms, nuzzling your face into her soft fur. “In here, Y/N.” Hux called out from his office and you set Millicent down, taking a deep breath before stepping into the tiny room. “How are you feeling today?”

“Pardon me, sir?” Of course you’d woken up feeling like you’d been hit by a Dreadnaught. You’d been plodding around all day with no energy, a pain in your skull, and a queasiness in your stomach.

“By my measure, you must have been  _ quite _ drunk last night, or else your off-duty language is far more casual than I would have estimated.” You were silent, waiting for him to explain. You knew you’d snuck up to the top floor with Kiara, but what business was it of Hux’s? “However, I would be a fool to assume you opened a face chat with me on purpose.” Oh no. A muscle-memory formed of turning to your side, your holstered datapad painfully pressing against your hip. In your haste to get it away, you must’ve pressed  _ several _ wrong buttons. “I was an even bigger fool to…” He pursed his lips, clearly ashamed. “Listen in as long as I did.”

“Oh, stars.” You put a hand on the desk to steady yourself, your mind frantically trying to remember what precisely you had said last night. “Sir, I admit I’d had quite a bit to drink at that point--”

“Most of a bottle of Corellian gin, yes, I had a good view of the bottle.”

“In my defense, sir, I  _ shared  _ that.” Your cheeks reddened as you thought over the situation. You had been off-duty, enjoying an adult beverage with a friend. And how  _ dare  _ he keep the chat open once he realized the mistake? This was your private conversation, and unless he had a reason to suspect disobedience, he had no right. “In fact sir, I don’t believe I’m required to defend  _ any _ of my actions, except perhaps being drunk in a somewhat restricted area. I can say what I like when I’m off-duty and you had  _ no _ right to--”

“You’re absolutely right about everything you just said and were about to say.” Hux was embarrassed, plain and simple. His fingers fidgeted on his desk, picking at nonexistent lint on his jacket. “I had no right to eavesdrop as I did. In fact, I would issue  _ myself _ a citation except I’m not sure you’d want me giving details on the situation.”

“Why did you listen, sir?” You said after a pause. “I’m hazy on the specifics, but I’m quite certain I didn’t mention you by name, your reputation was totally--”

“You said you had feelings for me.” Hux blurted. “Sorry, I keep interrupting you. Professional habit. Doesn’t excuse it. Anyway, you, um, said you had feelings for me. And that you had a nice--an enjoyable time the other night.” So you  _ had _ been talking about him. You supposed you couldn’t fault him for listening in, you doubted you would have resisted temptation had you been in his shoes. 

Still, it was embarrassing that details you’d given in confidence to a friend, words you couldn’t even remember, were being brought up against your will. You had assumed Hux had regretted what the two of you had done, and that was fine, you wouldn’t hold it against him. But now it felt like he was being simply cruel. “And you brought me here to...Rub it in my face that I’m a lovesick fool?” Hux actually sputtered for a moment at your words. He took a deep breath, then stood, walking over to where you were standing. 

“I brought you here to apologize. Mostly for eavesdropping. But also for disappearing off the face of the Galaxy. I see now that must have hurt you.” 

“It did.” You answered quietly.

“I, um.” He cleared his throat. “This is... _ hard _ . For me. All of this.” He gestured vaguely to the two of you. 

“Take your time.” You tentatively reached a hand over to his, and get gripped it like it was a lifeline.

“I suppose it’s obvious at this point.” He finally muttered. “I like you very much. It was the idea of  _ you _ liking  _ me  _ that seemed so improbable.”

“So you thought...I regretted it?” You started putting the pieces together. He nodded, eyes downcast. “May I ask what I did to  _ suggest _ such a thought?”

“It wasn’t anything you did, particularly.” He raked a hand through his hair, disturbing the perfect comb-marks from that morning. “It’s just  _ me _ . I know I’m not a very  _ likable _ person. I believe I am well-respected, but...I am a foul-tempered, arrogant, workaholic asshole. I know that. It makes me a good general, but it makes me bad a basically everything else. As you saw in the bedroom.” He let out a sardonic chuckle. “After letting you see what a  _ mess  _ I am underneath my glossy exterior...I couldn’t imagine you possibly wanting to stay. Still can’t, to be honest.”

“Armitage.” At hearing his name, his eyes met yours. “I happen to find you...Foul-tempered, arrogant, and a workaholic asshole.” You grinned, squeezing his hand. “But I also think you’re sweet, and considerate, and probably a bit of a romantic if my hunches are correct.” He wasn’t quite smiling, but almost. The cat hopped up onto the desk, rubbing against Hux and meowing. “Millicent saw something in you, all those years ago on Naboo. She wanted  _ you _ to take care of her, and it made your life better too.” You leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You’re my Millicent.”

There was a shift in his eyes, and he smiled properly. “In this analogy, you’re prepared to shoot me because I’ve kept you up all night screaming?” 

“Hey, I’m down for the ‘up all night screaming’ part.” He pulled your face to his, kissing you with abandon. 

When you pulled away, you looked up at him innocently. “Are you hungry?”

“Actually yes, but I have a meeting in--” He glanced at the clock on the wall “I’m already late.”

“I’ll have it delivered, just tell me the room.”

“I can do it.” He picked up a few scattered datapads, shoving them into his bag. “But...Come back tonight? I want to talk more.”

“Of course.” You tried not to be hurt at his refusal to let you complete simple tasks for him. “Just let me know when.”

“Oh, 1800. I’ll, uh--If you want--I can get the paperwork.” You liked watching blush spread from his ears down to his neck. It was adorable. You nodded, and beamed as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. You were so caught up in what had just happened that his words didn’t quite sink in until you were halfway to the training rooms on another errand. Paperwork.

It was standard procedure when members of the First Order were romantically involved to file a few pages of paperwork. This way, any favoritism during the relationship, or malicious actions when it ended, could be monitored and reported. For certain positions, such as a Captain dating a Trooper, the Trooper would either have to be transferred to a different squadron, or the Captain would have to step down. You didn’t think that would be necessary here, Hux was technically your commanding officer, but held little sway in terms of your actual job. More concerning was the fact that this was more-or-less publicly announcing your relationship. The gossip vultures in Records would whisper it to Medical, and then it would filter through Hospitality and before you knew it the whole ship would be talking about Hux and the Hall Girl. 

You would be another stereotype. Another Hall Girl who forgot her place and thought she could be something special. You had always worn your uniform with pride, grateful at the chance to show everyone onboard that you were somebody  _ important _ . But at that moment, you just wished you were back in Mess Hall C, scooping out mashed potatoes, another face in the crowd. If Hux changed his mind, if the dropped you tomorrow, his life would go on. It was practically expected of him to sleep around, to leave a trail of broken hearts behind him. But you? This would follow you. You would always be Icarus, burned on the fiery hair of your lover. Or something like that. 

You found yourself in the kitchens, scavenging through the massive fruit shelves for bananas that were past their prime. Mashing them well, you debated momentarily between walnuts or chocolate chips before simply making two batches. Four hot loaves filled the air with a cozy, caramelly aroma, and you packaged them neatly on plates, grabbing a few small sticks of butter for good measure. 

First you stopped by Kiara’s room, using the code she’d given you for emergencies only to let yourself into her rooms, placing a chocolate loaf on her table with a card, thanking her again for such a lovely evening last night. The second, you dropped off with Mitaka, just for the joy of seeing him smile and blush. The final two loaves you brought with you to Hux’s suite, swiping yourself in at 1740, setting them perfectly straight on the counter and getting out Millicents favorite toy fish to pass the time. 

It was 1824 when Hux finally opened the door, Millicent launching herself towards the sound. “Hello? Y/N?”

“Coming.” You found him in the kitchen, a thick slice of chocolate banana bread between his lips. “Well, at least my stress-baking isn’t going to waste.”

“Mmm, never. Come here and kiss me.” You obliged, pulling him closer by the lapels of his greatcoat. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about that.”

“I saw you five hours ago.” You teased, wiping chocolate from the side of his cheek. 

“...You have some idea how long I’ve been thinking about that.” He removed his coat and hat, tossing them over a chair. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” You said it without thinking, then remembered your earlier conversation. Yes, he probably had. 

“Well. Anyway. I have several things I’d like to discuss, and then there’s the paperwork to attend to.” Hux pulled a datapad off his holster, setting it on the counter.

“Woah, slow down. You just got home. And what--did you make an outline?” You squinted down at his notes before he snatched them away. “I have things  _ I’d _ like to talk about, but first you’re going to sit down, you’re going to let me order you something to eat, and you’re going to relax for five minutes together.”

“Where would you like to sit?” Hux finally muttered, dejected. 

“The table will do nicely.” Why did this feel like trying to put a petulant child to bed? “Would you like a drink?”

“I’m the host!” He protested, sinking into a chair. 

“You spent all day doing...General stuff,” You wiggled your hand vaguely, “I spent it making  _ banana bread. _ Would you like a drink?”

“I’m perfectly capable of--”

“Armitage.” You leaned your side against the table, facing him head on. “ _ This. _ ” You pointed to the two of you. “Is never going to work...Unless you  _ let me take care of you. _ ” You practically spat the words. They hung heavy in the air for a long moment. 

“The cabinet above the stove.” Hux pointed. “I should probably point out that this is the second night in a row you’re indulging in alcohol.”

“Well, recently my life has gotten a little weird.” You opened the cupboard, finding a half-dozen bottles of wine. You grabbed one that didn’t look too expensive. “I started sleeping with my boss, got turned on to this crazy fetish, and next I’m trying to convince a grown man that sleep is a necessary human activity.” Hux snorted. “I’m not asking for the moon, here.” You rummaged around for a corkscrew, prying open the wine with a pop. “Just...let me help where I can.”

“That...sounds like a reasonable request.” Hux nodded, accepting the glass you handed him. “May I have a few examples?”

“Let me order you regular meals, which reminds me.” You pulled up your tablet, ordering some food for you both. “I can take over feeding and brushing Millicent.” Hux nodded again, sipping his wine. “I could make sure your suite is kept ship-shape.” You set your own glass down, moving to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders. “I’m sure there’s plenty of other ways I haven’t thought of yet.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek before digging your thumbs deep into his shoulder blades, rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Ooh, well I will, yes, seriously consider your,  _ stars _ that’s good.” His words dissolved into a low moan as you massaged his neck and back. 

“Mmm, I should make you an appointment with the chiropractor.” You kissed his forehead this time, setting yourself an easy pace while he refilled his wine glass. After a while the aching burn in your hands forced you to stop, but the blissed-out expression on Hux’s face made you wish you could have kept up longer. “See? It’s nice.”

“It is.” Hux handed you your glass, and you accepted, sitting next to him. “Am I permitted to initiate our discussion?”

“Yes, sir.” You winked. 

“I was wondering…” He took another gulp of wine. “This is merely curiosity, but you really had no interest in…?”

“In...Watching my lover eat two entire loaves of banana bread, then rubbing their stomach and calling them a good boy?” Hux nodded. “I promise, it’s all new to me. What about you, when did you get into it?”

“I, um, I had a nanny. She used to give me treats when father wasn’t looking. I suppose I learned to associate one naughty behavior with another fairly early on, I remember she baked me a birthday cake when I was fourteen and I ate it all in one go because I was scared one of the cleaning droids would find it and take it away. And of course, at that age, one is teeming with hormones and urges and…” He shrugged. “You mentioned, last night, something about...choking?”

“Are we just going to list all our kinks now? Is that the purpose of this meeting?” You were blushing hard now, grateful when the doorbell saved you. You collected the trays from the droid, setting down two plates full of baked chicken and carrots. “Sorry, boring options today.”

“Am I being too forward?” Hux asked bluntly. “Is this--Should we wait to discuss these things?”

“I mean, it’s a little unorthodox based on my previous experience, not that I’m an expert. You know what, there’s a good question, a warm-up before we get to the choking bit, how many people have you dated?” 

“None.” The word fell swiftly from his mouth as he stabbed a fork between his lips. 

“Oh. Really?” You supposed it wasn’t terribly surprising, but still. He was hot and powerful, that should have been enough to warrant a few trysts in his thirty-some-odd years of life. 

“There have been a few... _ flings _ .” Hux continued once he had swallowed. “But truthfully I’ve just been too busy. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but running a warship does take up a fair bit of my time.” 

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“I admit there have been a few hopefuls over the years, but people tend to get this picture of me in their heads, some preconceived notion about...I don’t actually  _ enjoy _ yelling at people, you know.” You laughed, and Hux smiled in response. “I spend my entire day being…”

“A foul-tempered, arrogant, workaholic asshole?” You suggested.

“Yes, thank you.” He gave you a wry look. “But I haven’t any desire to be that way towards someone that I care about.” He took another sip of his wine. “Sorry, I think I over-answered. Your turn.”

“Well, I dated this girl Sam way back like five or six years ago, for about a year, and then Adam and I were together for...Gosh, almost three? The odd couple dates here and there, but that’s about my history.” You shrugged. 

“What happened between you and Adam? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Well he got transferred over to the Supremacy, made a lot of promises about making it work, then cheated on me with three different people.” You flashed a toothy smile before downing the rest of your glass. 

“Please forget I asked.” Hux hurried to refill your glass.

“It’s fine, it hadn’t really been working for a while. I just wish he’d been up front about it rather than such a messy ending.” You shrugged again. “Well, I suppose that’s a decent segue, Adam was pretty into breathplay so yes, he did like to choke me sometimes. I mean, consensually. Not just out of the blue.” 

“And you...enjoyed this?” Hux seemed genuinely perplexed at how having your very life force withheld from you could contribute to sexual satisfaction. 

“Hey, as far as weird kinks go, you have  _ no _ room to talk.” Your face was reddening. “But yes, I did like it too. And I’ve always been pretty into...Y’know what, no, that can wait for another day.” You’d always been embarrassed about how much you loved anal, but it felt too... _ dirty _ to confess to Hux, who was so prim and tidy. He nodded at you, not pressing further. “There we go, my turn over.” You hurriedly shoved a forkful of carrots in your mouth, not meeting his eyes.  

“I think all of mine are all pretty neatly tied together. I like food, and being full. I like being  _ encouraged _ to eat. I like...Being praised.” He rubbed at his neck, not nearly as embarrassed as you were. “I’ve got to say, you pretty much hit the nail on the head the first time around.” You felt warm from the wine and the praise, reaching out to take his hand in yours. 

“So, next item on your agenda, General?”

“That wasn’t strictly  _ on _ the agenda, if you must know.” He was teasing, but still he pulled over his datapad, checking his notes. “I suppose I really just wanted to know what you expect of me. I haven’t done this before, I don’t want to get it wrong by default.”

“Can I ask something first?” He nodded. “What are we? I mean, we fucked once and now it seems like we’re jumping into something very committed, very fast.”

“That’s a very fair question.” Hux squeezed your hand a little. “I’ve never been very good at doing anything by degrees. And I wholeheartedly understand if this is all going too quickly. But I like you a lot, and I’d rather skip the part where  _ we’re not together, but we’re sleeping together, but we’d like to be together, but we don’t know each other that well _ , and just go straight to the part where we’re together.”

“You seem to know a lot about early relationship dynamics for somebody who doesn’t date much.”

“I’ve been watching Mitaka struggle to hold down a girlfriend for the past eight years.” You both laughed. 

“I’m just...apprehensive.” You admitted. “Our relationship will develop at the same speed regardless of what we call it. But once we file the paperwork, everyone is going to know. And we don’t know each other that well! I don’t know when your birthday is, you’ve never been to my rooms. We’ve never been out on a date!”

“Is this not a date?”

“I’d love to believe that this is all going to end in love and harmony. But if after a few weeks, we realize it was just a food-fueled infatuation? I’m only ever going to be recognized as the Hall Girl who fucked Hux.”

“That is a very valid concern, one I admit did not occur to me.” Hux tapped at his datapad, swiping his finger to the left. “There. I’ve deleted the paperwork.” He set the tablet back down, picking your hand back up. “In my eagerness, I was careless. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you, and that includes your reputation. As you say, things will progress of their own accord, regardless.” Hux went back to his plate, and you saw something in his expression.

“You wanted to make things official before I had a chance to change my mind, didn’t you?” He opened his mouth to respond, then changed his mind, shoving in another bite. “I hope to eventually convince you that I  _ do _ actually like you.”

“I hope so too.” He said it so apologetically, and you could not fault him. People can’t help the way they get wired.

“As to your earlier question,” You mused, “I’’d like to request one date a week, doesn’t have to be fancy, just a time when I know I’ll get to spend a few hours with you. And yes this  _ could _ count, sans datapad. I’d like to ask that you try to always be as honest as possible with me, and I’ll do the same to you. Oh!” You remembered something urgent that had occurred to you several days ago. “And I think it’s very important we talk about safewords.”

“Safe words? Can you elaborate?”

“Yes, so during sex, especially weird sex, it’s important to have words that mean stop. Adam and I used a red, yellow, green, one, two, three method.” You continued. “Red is a hard stop. Whatever we’re doing, we stop completely. Yellow means you’re uncomfortable, but don’t want to totally stop playing, just use extra care or avoid that action or item or what have you. And as we all know, green means go, everything is fine.”

“Then what is the purpose of 1, 2, 3?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly speak when Adam had his hand on my windpipe, so I used my fingers. One meant we were good, keep going. Two meant I was starting to feel a strain. Three was full stop. I’m sure you can imagine the same protocol being useful to us, if your mouth is full of whipped cream and pudding.”

“Why not simply use the words stop and no?”

“Sometimes they don’t work in the context of the play. I’ve got to admit, I’ve specifically fantasized about hearing you whine that you’re too full, but I just keep feeding you anyway.” The look on Hux’s face suggested he found the idea equally arousing. 

“Red, yellow, green. Good contribution, L/N.” He raised his glass, and you clinked it softly against your own. 

“May I enquire after your own expectations?” You ventured.

“First and foremost, our relationship must never interfere with my work. There may be times I have to cancel at a moment's notice, or leave unexpectedly, or disappear for days at a time without being able to contact you.”

“I understand that.”

“It’s also imperative that you understand your association with me may put you at something of a risk. I have many enemies, and I can’t promise they’ll never attempt to get to me through you. I am more than happy to grant you any level of protection you desire, including cameras in your quarters, self-defence training, security detail--”

“I hardly think that will be necessary.” You knew some of the lieutenants wives had personal security in their homes, but you couldn’t imagine ever needing them yourself.

“I would love to assure you that it’s not. But there have been too many incidents. All of this comes as part of my package, and you are free to walk out that door whenever it becomes too much.”

“Stop trying to talk me out of this!” You threw your arms up, exasperated. “Do you want to be with me or not?”

“I currently hold,” Hux was collecting his words carefully, “The highest scores on record in at least...Four? Maybe five different weapons specialties. I have watched countless team members, people I cared about, fall under blaster fire on the front lines of battle. My father once served me a poisoned cup of tea, just to ensure I was paying attention. The capability for fear had been, I thoroughly believed, utterly stripped from the very structure of my being.” He took a gulp of wine, looking straight at you. “Until I met you. You make me feel... _ Shaky _ , and stupid, and so hopelessly terrified. Because if you don’t want to be with me, if you’re afraid of me like everybody else, then what the bloody hell was any of it for?” He really was starting to get a bit drunk, the odd word slurring at the edges. “What’s the point of becoming an emotionless death machine if the one time you actually get to  _ feel _ something, she says no? Because you’re weird. You’re cold, and hesitant, and make an itinerary for your date, and haven’t the faintest, foggiest idea what you’re actually doing.”

“I have an addendum.” You touched his arm softly. “To my requests.”

“That I never speak to you again?”

“I don’t mind reassuring you that I care. I get it. This isn’t your forte, and you’re used to pretty much everything being your forte, Mr. Five-kinds-of-weapons-specialties.” He rolled his eyes. “But I need you to understand something, and understand it very clearly.”

“What?”

You placed your hand against his cheek, thumb tracing his jawline. “You make me feel helpless and afraid too.” You swear he nearly cried, icy blue eyes misting in a way that made you want to wrap him in blankets and never let him out of your sight. “Sometimes I’m going to need you to reassure me, like you just did. Is that okay?”

“Of course, darling.” He touched the hand on his face, pulling it to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.

“Darling? That’s new.” You mused.

“Is it okay?” His lips brushed your knuckles. 

You nodded eagerly. “And am I permitted any endearments?”

“Mmm. I’m open to suggestions.” His eyes were warm and playful, an easy smile spread across his face. He was actually comfortable, relaxed, more so than you had ever seen him. Perhaps it had to do with the wine, or perhaps you were finally starting to convince the resistant part of his brain than you were here to stay. 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a super short chapter and it ended earlier than it honestly should have, but exams are next week and I just really wanted to get some sort of update out before I disappear into the void. Enjoy this kinky trash.

16:57

16:58

16:59 You gleefully ripped your datapad from it’s holster, switching your status from ‘available’ to ‘on-call’, practically skipping down the hall. Tonight was your first real date with Hux, and you had scarcely been able to sleep last night between excitement and, ahem,  _ sexual _ excitement. 

You entered your rooms, chucking your tablet towards your counter, hands clapping over your mouth when you heard it crash against something and fall to the floor. Kneeling, you retrieved the small white box that had apparently been delivered sometime during the day. Prying it open, you let out a soft gasp at the delicate gold chain, a row of impossibly dainty stars twinkling under the flourescent lights of your kitchen. 

_ Thank you Armitage, I love it. _

_ I’m glad. I should be done here soon. _ You knew ‘soon’ could range anywhere from ten to forty minutes, typically leaning towards the latter.

_ Alright, I just got back to change. You already ordered dinner, right? _ Calling it dinner felt a little dishonest given your intentions for the food, but it was easier to type than ‘the feast I plan on stuffing you with’

_ Yes _ . Just that one word sent a lurch through your stomach, how much would Hux have ordered for himself, knowing you would be there? Would he choose less than usual, wanting to ensure he could finish it all? Or double his usual quantities, curious how far you could push him?

Half an hour later, you were creeping down the hall towards the elevator, hoping none of the other Hall Girls saw you. You were in comfortable clothes, plain black leggings and a grey tunic, your desire to look devastatingly sexy trumped by a desire to spend one blessed evening without nylons, your toes free to wiggle in your old, dependable boots. 

You knocked at the door, pleased at the sound of approaching feet, more pleased when Hux unlatched the lock, his rigid demeanor melting the moment he saw you. You quickly stepped inside, the door scarcely shut before you looped your arms about his neck, pressing your lips to his. “Hello, darling.” He greeted you as you broke apart.

“Hi.” You pulled him closer, holding him in a tight embrace for a moment before letting him step back.

“You look lovely.” He reached out to touch the new necklace before drawing his hand back. 

“It’s probably the least dignified I’ve ever looked in your presence.” As soon as you said it, you realized your error. No, you had in fact bounced naked on his lap about a week ago, which was considerably less dignified than casual wear. 

Hux rolled the situation off like a true diplomat. “I like it. I like seeing you at ease.”

“Speaking of ease, should I--” You moved for the kitchen, and Hux gently took your arm. 

“I was thinking...Perhaps the sofa. We can have dinner first, I know you must be hungry, and then you’ll be able to sit closer when...When, ehm, the time comes.”

“I love the way you’ve thought about this.” You placed a loving kiss on his cheek. The two of you moved to the living room, where Hux had already laid out two plates, both filled with steaming veggie curry and white rice. You gently scooted Millicent off the couch, curling your legs under you, patting the space next to you. “This smells delicious.”

“It does rather.” The two of you kept up easy conversation while you ate, about your day at work, Hux’s current projects, Millicents unfortunate bath the other day. As your plates lightened, a nervousness settled over you, making your heart beat too quickly, your breath too heavy. You both stalled as you scraped the last stubborn grains up with your fork, talking about how soon the ship would dock next, whether you had ever been to Coruscant, a few times but you’d love to really explore the city, yes, it was lovely in the summer. Finally, Hux took your plate from you, setting it neatly on the end table. He took your hand, and you refused to meet his eyes, your cheeks aflame. “You can leave right now if you want.”

Your head jumped up at his words. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“No! I just...I see that you’re nervous. And I wanted to be sure you were sure.”

“Are you not nervous?”

“Horrifically.” He held up his hand in proof, and it trembled. 

“I’m sure. You’re sure?” You held his gaze a long moment, searching his face for any sign of doubt.

“I’m sure.” He pulled your hand to his face, kissing your knuckles. Whether the gesture was meant to comfort you, or comfort him, you weren’t entirely sure. 

“Here, let’s get you comfortable.” You found your voice slipping back into that low, oozing register as you pushed Hux back against the pillows. “Do you want to take off your top now or later?”

“Now, I think.” He unbuttoned the garment, revealing his soft, worn-in black undershirt. 

“Alright. I’m going to go get the food. Is there anything else I can get you to make you more comfortable?” You cooed over him, pushing his hair back. 

“You might grab a tall glass of water. Or even...milk” Hux suggested after a moment, and you nodded. You hadn’t been sure what exactly he would order, but clearly he was well prepared. Three plates, and there was a clear method to their order. The first plate contained a small pile of brioche rolls, dishes of butter and jam sitting to the side like accessories. You pulled open the fridge, retrieving the milk and nearly emptying the entire quart into a huge drinking glass that might actually have been some sort of vase. You lifted the plate, nestling the bowls into the crook of your elbow, carrying everything back into the living room. 

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you set the plate down in front of him. He seemed to be searching for permission as he picked up the first roll, swirling it in butter before dunking it heavily into the jam. There was a decadence here, something in his mannerisms to suggest this was not simply filling his tank, this was illicit and forbidden and he  _ loved  _ it, shoving the entire roll into his mouth, a smear of strawberry staining his cheek. “Good boy.” You barely breathed out the phrase, standing in front of him and staring instead of returning to your place at his side. “I didn’t realize you were so hungry.” You felt a smirk on your lips as you pushed the glass closer, and Hux took a greedy gulp as he swallowed his second roll. 

“You have no idea.” The look he gave was enough to make your cunt pulse with need. His pupils were blown wide, lids hanging low to suggest he wanted to eat every damn thing in this suite, yourself included, until he was finally satisfied. 

“I’m going to fetch the second plate.” You didn’t want to tear your eyes from his mouth, where a third and fourth roll had just disappeared. “And I want that plate clean when I get back.” Hux gave a dutiful nod as he slathered his second-to-last bun in butter, and you forced yourself to retreat, taking a few deep breaths to try and steady yourself. You had to get through two more courses like this. Was he going to keep this pace the entire time?

The second plate was more formidable. Almost half of a chocolate cake, six inches tall and so dark it almost looked black. You lifted it carefully with two hands, a flutter gripping your chest when you returned to Hux to find him casually wiping jam off his face, his spare hand resting idly on his stomach, which wasn’t looking quite as flat as it had before. “Here we are, dearest.” You set the plate down, asking him as you handed off the fork “What’s your color?”

“Green.” He smiled up at you so innocently he might have been a toddler presented with his birthday cake, digging his fork into the decadent mass of sugar.

He tried to attack it with the same gusto, but barely four bites in you stopped him. “Slow down, pumpkin.” You took your earlier spot next to him on the couch, reaching a hand over to pat his tummy. “You’ll give yourself a stomach ache.”

“Perhaps you should help me.” The request seemed to take him by surprise, his eyes widening as he spoke it. 

“What a marvelous idea.” You reached over and took the plate, turning yourself so you were facing him better. You cut off a piece with the side of the fork, scooping it up and holding it out for him. Stars, you were never prepared for the way this made you feel, watching him take food from you, so eager and pliant. “Good, good.” You readied another, slightly larger bite, unable to hide the slightly dazed expression on your face as you fed it to him. “You’re doing so well, look at that. Nearly halfway done.”

You almost felt a bit sick watching him steadily devour the thick dessert, knowing you’d never be able to finish even a quarter of this portion, not so much from the size as the richness, so much pure sugar sure to seize your stomach. You reminded yourself that this was a testament to Hux’s own determination, as he’d clearly been building his tolerance for fats and sugars for quite some time, the mental images making your hand falter for just a moment. “Everything alright?”

“I should be asking you that.” You set the fork down, giving Hux a chance for a much needed drink from his glass. “Sorry, went into a bit of a trance there. You’re just that mesmerizing.” You winked, using your thumb to swipe crumbs from his chin. “Give me a color.”

Hux didn’t seem to want to admit any sort of defeat, but he said “Approaching yellow”, which led you to suspect he was far more full that he was letting on. 

“Do you think you can finish this for me?” There were maybe six bites left. “Then we can have a break.” Hux nodded, and you balanced the plate on your knee, loading up the fork, using your free hand to rub circles around his stomach. “Does that feel nice?” Hux could do nothing but nod again, as he’d just filled his mouth with more cake. “Must be getting full in here.” His belly, which had barely an extra ounce of fat on it to begin with, felt firm and hot under your touch. You took a moment to cut the cake into its final five bites, pinching one between your fingers as you pressed your knuckles deeper into Hux’s stomach. “So good for me.”

You fed him the bite, sliding down to the ground, gently guiding his legs further apart to make room for you between them. Hux moaned around his mouthful of frosting as you slid your hands up his legs, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Is this okay?”

“ _ Please. _ ” Hux whined beautifully.

“Keep eating.” You instructed him, unzipping his fly, his over-stuffed tummy more than happy to fill the newfound space, the flaps of his pants spreading as far as they could. “That must feel better, getting these tight pants off.” You pushed his shirt up, spreading your hands wide across his belly before crooking your fingers in his belt loops. “Lift your hips a moment.” He complied, and you pulled his heavy work trousers down to his knees, taking his boxer-briefs with them, his cock bobbing up, looking so lovely and pink, smeared with moisture at the tip.

You looked up at Hux, and he hurried to fill his mouth again, cramming in two bites at once. “You’re so hard.” You pouted in mock concern. “Do you want me to help?” Hux nodded emphatically. “Use your words.”

He hurried to swallow, wincing as the too-large bite went down. “ _ Please _ , please touch me.”

“Clean your plate, and you’ll get your reward.” You had barely nodded to the plate before Hux grabbed it, inhaling the last two pieces and licking at the semi-circle of thick frosting ringing the edge. You wasted no time, wrapping both hands around his member and giving an exploratory lick along the underside. A muffled whine escaped Hux’s tightly filled mouth, and you couldn’t help but grin as you wrapped your lips around his cock, swallowing him down as far as you could, working what you couldn’t with your hands. 

Watching him gulp thickly and gasp out a needy whimper, his hand clutching at his distended gut, throwing his head back against the cushions for the briefest moment before pulling it up again to look down at you, he was so damn  _ cute  _ and it was  _ doing things to you _ . Bobbing your head along his length, you moved a hand down to your waistband, wiggling it in and moaning as you slid home. You swirled your fingers around your clit, surprised at how  _ close _ you already were. 

Above you, Hux tentatively splayed a hand over your hair, and you looked up at him, your wide eyes giving him full permission. His sighs and cries had dissolved into unabashed moans and muttered curses as he tried not to thrust up into your mouth, and the sight of him biting down on his lower lip, eyes screwed tightly shut pushed you over the edge, cumming hard on your fingers and groaning on his cock. “Did you just…? Oh  _ kriff _ .” Hux tried to pull you off him, but you took him in as far as you could, letting his cum land in the back of your mouth where you could swallow it quickly without tasting it. You gave a few more licks to the head, cleaning the last of his seed before standing, pulling your own wet fingers from your panties. 

“I’ll be right back.” You leaned down and kissed him quickly before picking up the chocolate-streaked plate, retreating to the kitchen to wash your hands and fetch a warm washcloth. Upon your return, Hux had tucked himself back into his underwear, abandoning his pants completely. “You’re a little messy.” You gently wiped at his face, removing all the jelly and frosting that had accumulated. “How’re you feeling?”

“Full. Tired.” He gave you a slow, lazy smile. “Happy. How about you?”

You leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time. “I feel like the luckiest woman in the Galaxy.” The tips of Hux’s ears blushed deep pink. You reclined into the corner of the sofa, propping yourself up just so with pillows. “C’mere.” You guided Hux to lay his head against your chest, a warm feeling in your heart at how naturally the two of you nestled together, legs settling against each other as you raked your fingers through his hair. “You were so good.” You smacked a kiss to his temple. “I didn’t know what to expect from all this, I didn’t think...It was amazing, watching you like that.”

“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Hux nuzzled himself tighter against you. “I admit I was nervous about this evening, though I see now I needn’t have been.”

“I was nervous too.” You let his hair alone, resting your hand, and he quickly laced your fingers with his own. “We can be done, if you want. For tonight.” You quickly added the last two words. “You were amazing.”

“But darling,” Hux looked up at you, blinking wide, blue eyes at you, “I’m still hungry.”

“Kriff.” You muttered, thinking that surely Hux could feel the lurch that went through your gut. “Whatever you want, honey.” Smiling, Hux nestled himself back into your chest, ordering the lights to 30% and setting an alarm for half an hour from now. You tried to follow him into sleep, watching him gently dozing, his stomach letting out the occasional grumble, but you were too busy thinking about the final plate waiting for you in the kitchen, counting the minutes until he awoke. 


End file.
